That was cool. Though I kinda didn't like the fact that Max drinks all the time. In his house, on the way to the cemetry, in the cemetry, on the way to the bar to get drunk again. I know they try to make a point here, but that was a little too much.

A dim room met my eyes in a weary blur of commotion. My owner had placed me in the heart of his collection. I was the centerpiece. Primetime. How had this happened? Imprisoned watching whatever he did with abject horror; the cold of my heart made real and freezing my body in place. Perhaps this was a fitting place for me. Mona would have appreciated the irony. Vlad would have called it fate. Winterson would have called me a murderer. But none of these people could talk. Silenced away, one way or another, by my actions. Kept alive as spectres in the darkest recesses of my mind by guilt.

When I thought I had finally hit the bottom of the pit, the pasty kid sloughing his weight in his chair did the unthinkable. Cracking his belt like a bar-room brawler preparing for a fight, his pants fell to the floor, and I was forced to see the pulpy organ that had been kept at bay until now...

I would definitely enjoy that, even though what I written is way too lexically convoluted to sound properly like Max Payne, but you get the idea.

Although I could never really get into Max Payne 1 enough to enjoy it, I just beat Max Payne 2 and I've got to say it was really fun. Just the simple mechanic of bullet time can make a good game great.

That was cool. Though I kinda didn't like the fact that Max drinks all the time. In his house, on the way to the cemetry, in the cemetry, on the way to the bar to get drunk again. I know they try to make a point here, but that was a little too much.